One Blood
by Defiant-Dreams
Summary: When a country is torn in half, versions of our nations appear. They may be different; they may be cruel, but they are still the same. They are still America and England. 1P/2P SELFCEST. Pre-established USUK.
1. United States of America, elections

WARNING WARNING: SELFCEST, DUBCON, SEXXXXXXX (but not graphic! :D)

So, I started this fic out in normal third-person, but it didn't agree with me. *glances down* I've, uh, never done second-person, so IDK. It looks alright. Gives it a different, feel. It allows me to say things I can't actually say unless it's 3rd-person omniscient, and that's kind of annoying for me.

* * *

_We be of one blood, ye and I - The Jungle Book_

"Stop." You plead. You seek out his gaze, eyes hazy from the drugs he put you under. His cold red eyes scare you, so much like yours, yet not. You arch away from his touch on your chest, turning your head away.

You flinch as he flicks your nipple. A bright red flush appears on your cheeks as he chuckles.

"You like that?" He murmurs, before slowly setting himself down on your lap, cocks brushing. You shake your head vehemently, your eyes wide as you sluggishly try to push him away.

"Am—America." You slur, trying to push yourself away from the man with the cold red eyes, the man who is you, the man who is everything you fear of yourself, yet everything you want.

He smiles darkly, and leans down; wet tongue flicking up your neck. You whine, trying to get away. You don't want this, you don't want him.

"America." He replies softly against your neck, before biting down harshly on your neck. You cry out, eyes wide with shock as the pain flashes down your back.

He laps at the blood, a slight shiver rocking down his body. He grinds down against you and you squeeze your eyes shut. You don't want this, you don't want him—_you need, you want, you have._

He grabs your chin and forces your blue eyes to meet his. You have one moment to see the need and the desperation in his eyes, before he presses his lips to yours, soft and so unlike him. And you kiss back. You don't know why, but you kiss him back, as if you're the one desperate and needy.

"Let me love you." He whispers brokenly into your lips, clutching on to you as if you're everything he needs, everything he wants. In that moment, his whole demeanor is different. He's scared, and he needs, and you're there.

In that moment, you can be the hero. It figures that the only person you can save is yourself. The only person worth saving.

But the moment is gone. He shifts and then he's forcing his tongue inside, rocking up into you in a hard rolling motion that sends you skidding on your floor. He's rough, his nails scratching down your bare back leaving red welts that rise up. It's painful, and you keen as you arch away and into him.

"Let me _have_ you." He hisses, grip tightening on your hips as he rocks down, pressing his cheek to yours. You know that tomorrow there'll be dark bruises littering your sides. Bruises that you'll match your fingers as you press on them and remember this.

Your blue eyes water behind Texas and a soft whine escape you as you throw your head back, leg hooking around his hip. You don't know why you're doing this. You don't know why you're responding to him, why you're rubbing against him, why you want him so bad.

"You have me." You gasp, arching up into him, into you. You don't know why you're saying that. But it's true. Of course it's true. You have him, and he has you. You are he, and he is you.

He laughs, bitterness seeping through insanity. He's shaking, and you feel wetness on your cheeks. You blink; you're surprised. You press your lips to his, and he kisses back desperately, need shaking his form. The rocks of your hips grow erratic, matching his frantic pace. And in a few moments you both still, eyes rolling back into your head as you call each other's name softly. It's the same name, of course it is. You are but one person.

It's only when he disappears that you realized you were both crying.

* * *

"_L'Amerique's_ been off, recently." France comments idly, resting his chin on his hand.

Britain bites his lip. "I've noticed. Elections are coming; you know how he gets. His nation's been fighting against itself. Politically, at least."

Canada looks up at that, purple eyes wide with worry. "Is he—you know? Is _He_ popping up?" He asks quietly, hugging the polar bear closer to his petite body. France and he look to Britain, slight fear behind their eyes.

Britain sighs. "I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case." He shifts uncomfortably, a slight flush staining his cheeks.

France gives him an odd look. "_Angleterre_, has yours been visiting?"

Britain flinches. "Afraid so. They come together, as you are aware." He looks away from the gaze of Canada and France, carefully adjusting his sore body.

It was true. The United States and the United Kingdom did go together, much like Canada and France. If America's Alter was here, then so was Britain's.

* * *

AN: Stop judging me!

*shrinks back into the corner*

Its just-Selfcest is really really hot, okay? Don't you think so? Am I only one? THERE'S BEEN SO FEW 1Px2P. LET ME HAVE MY SELFCEST, OKAY?

On another hand, I have no idea why I'm using 'Britain' and not 'England'. I've always used England, but uh, now I just don't? IDEK, OKAY. Britain sounds much more classy.

-DD

BRITAIN NEXT!


	2. United States of America, elections II

WARNING WARNING: SELFCEST, DUBCON, SEXXXXXXX (but not graphic! :D), VIOLENCE

And lol, I lied. More US/US! But this time, with UK/UK and pre-established US/UK (1P/1P and 2P/2P. Idk, i don't find 1PUS/2PUK and vice versa that cool.) :D No 2nd-person now. Country names=1P, Human names=2P

* * *

"America."

America freezes. He spins, raising his right arm. He barely blocks the hit that his alternate throws. He grunts and then pushes Alfred away, throwing his own punch. Alfred parries it easily, his teeth baring as he goes in for an uppercut. America dodges it and swings at the side of Alfred's head. Alfred ducks, and kicks at his legs in a roundhouse kick. America falls, and Alfred lunges at him, a growl ripping out of his throat.

America's head slams into the floor, and bright stars flash in his vision. He gasps and Alfred pins his wrists harshly to the floor. America hisses, blinking away the white in his vision and bucks up into Alfred. Alfred's grip loosens and America rolls them over, grabbing Alfred's forearms and slamming them into the floor as he leans in, breathing harsh. Their breaths seem to mingle, lips mere inches apart.

"No bat?" America drawls, raising an eyebrow.

Alfred stares at him from beneath his shades. He doesn't even bother to acknowledge that America asked him a question. America raises an eyebrow and Alfred smirks at him slyly. America scowls as he pulls Alfred's shades off, and the smirk on Alfred's face grows even wider. He lifts his head a little, ahoge the color of dried blood bobbing a bit. America's grip tightens instinctively as he leans back, placing Alfred's shades on the floor. Alfred doesn't even flinch.

"Kiss me." Alfred said flatly. America gives him an incredulous look.

"Dude, I'm still sore from an hour ago. You can't expect me to go at it again. And aren't you like, supposed to be back in your world already?"

Alfred's eyes narrow and he scoffs in disbelief, "Are you telling me that the United States of America can't get it up for another round? _Pathetic._"

America flinches and he growls, nails digging into Alfred's arms. Alfred's red eyes glint, stomach muscles clenching in anticipation underneath America.

"Come on. Kiss me." Alfred murmurs, gaze set on America's lips. America glares at his alternate, huffing a little as he releases his grip and rolls off of Alfred.

"Fuck you." America grumbles, swaying slightly as he gets up and gives Alfred a heated look. Alfred sighs exasperatedly, as he clenches his fists and stretches on the floor languidly, shirt hitching up. America glances at the strip of tanned skin before he looks away and flushes. Alfred chuckles at that and sits up.

America huffs and starts to walk away from Alfred. As he turns his back towards Alfred and nears the door, the back of his neck tingles. His muscles tense in a split-second before he's being pushing to the wall beside the door roughly. Alfred traps America's left arm behind America's back with his own hand and pushes America's chest against America's other arm.

Alfred grabs the blonde hair at the back of his head and pulls down. America's neck strains and he looks at Alfred from the corner of his left eye, gritting his teeth. Alfred smiles at him threateningly, before reaching up and plucking Texas from America's nose. America hisses, vision going blurry and he glares at his alternate as Alfred pockets the glasses. He has one moment to think before Alfred is slamming his face to the wall.

America cries out, and shit, his nose was bleeding. But, well, at least Texas was safe?

"Bastard." He grunts, and struggles. Alfred just pushes him harder to the wall, grinding against him roughly. America chokes on a moan, and finds himself pushing back.

"Kiss me?" Alfred murmurs hopefully, breath fanning America's ear as he rocks his hips into America. America shudders, but turns his head anyways. Alfred kisses him, chaste and simple in a way that America hardly sees. It's only for a second though before Alfred is shoving a slick tongue inside. America moans, his own tongue entangling with Alfred's. He grinds back against Alfred's thigh and Alfred lets out a muffled groan.

They don't see England pushing the door open with a panicked look on his face. They also don't see his eyes widen as he sees their bodies and mouths pressed together obscenely. And of course, they don't see the look on his face as he closes the door.

xxx

"So." Arthur said, smiling at him brilliantly from where he was leaning against the wall. England flinched.

"All right?" He asked sweetly. England glares at his alternate and looks away.

"They must be enjoying themselves. Alfie's been pretty bruised. You know him, he positively adores a good brawl." Arthur said softly, pale blue eyes cold and assessing. His tone was as light and easy as ever and England grit his teeth.

"Belt up." He snarled, and looked away. Arthur tilted his head, smiling slightly, his eyes questioning.

"They weren't brawling." He bit out. Arthur grinned, and laughed, a high tinkling sound that made England flinch.

"Mhmm." Arthur hummed in approval, before his grin turned feral and menacing as he straightened up against the wall and advanced towards England. England's fists clenched, but he didn't back up, choosing instead to raise his chin defiantly.

"Well." Arthur murmured, tilting his head slightly as he assessed England, his lips pulled up in a small smile. "You know us. You know what we want from you chaps as well."

England swallowed, green eyes darkening slightly. He licked his lips, Arthur's pink-tinged gaze tracking the movement. Arthur calmly stalked towards him and England wavered, stiffening slghtly as Arthur stopped in front of him.

"You know what _I _want from you." Arthur continued, his pupils dilating. He smiled, and England had a second to panic before Arthur closed the gap between them.

"Not today." England grit out, flushing slightly. Arthur frowns at that, and he looks down. He sighs and nods, and England relaxes. The moment he does though, Arthur's head snaps back up. He lunges, fingers closing over England's neck. England gasps for air, his green eyes wide at the insane look in Arthur's pale blue eyes. Arthur bares his teeth in a false mockery of a grin and England shudders.

"Let's play a game." Arthur hissed, his grip tightening. England wheezes, his hand coming up to wrap his fingers around Arthur's wrist. Arthur looks down and England tightens his grip painfully. Arthur grunts, and lets go of England reluctantly.

England glared at his alternate. Arthur sighs and looks down. England stiffens, but all Arthur does next is look up from under his strawberry-blonde hair and pout, pale blue widening in a puppy dog look. England looks away and huffs before pushing Arthur away from him.

"You don't want to shag? That's perfectly fine." Arthur said cheerfully. England rolls his eyes.

"Yes, since attacking someone is perfectly fine, bloody git." England scowled. Arthur's eyes flash, and he smiles brightly.

"It is in our world." Arthur chirps cheerfully. There's an awkward silence as England looks away in embarrassment. They don't talk about Arthur's world-if you can even call it that-that often.

"How do cupcakes sound, poppet?" Arthur offers as he breaks the silence. England sighs.

"As long as they're not poisoned, love."

Arthur pouts.

xxx

Of course, England should have expected it to end up like this. Arthur was pushing him against the counter less than 5 seconds after he had placed the final batch of cupcakes down, a huge smile on his face as he pressed his entire body against England's.

Arthur grinned, bright and easy as he reaches behind England. England watches his hand suspiciously, and groans when Arthur dips his finger in the icing. Arthur smiles at him mischievously before he swipes his finger on England's cheek. England stares at him disapprovingly. All Arthur does is wink and lean in, licking the icing off wetly with an obscene sound. England makes a small sound, and neither of them are sure if it was approval or not.

Arthur leans in closer and kisses England's cheek sweetly before he starts to pepper kisses down to England's mouth. Their eyes slide shut as their lips meet in a chaste press of lips. England hums and tilts his head to the side a little as they start to share slow, relaxed kisses.

"Please."Arthur whispers against his lips, and he's trembling, England can feel it. England reaches up and tangles his hand in Arthur's hair. His grip is hard as he pulls and Arthur makes a small noise of pleasure.

England smiles against Arthur's lips, and nips Arthur's bottom lip playfully. Arthur growls, and presses in closer, kisses turning rough as he slips his tongue inside England's mouth. Just as Arthur starts grinding up against him, the door slams open.

They freeze and pull apart to look at the offender, mirrored expressions of annoyance. America's alternate is there, and he's smirking slightly as he looks at their position. Arthur smiles at him in slight surprise, and England frowns.

"Alfie, can you leave us alone? We're kind of busy." Arthur says sweetly. Alfred scowls, and points at the clock.

"Meeting, remember? Come back for him later." Alfred says, crossing his arms in annoyance. Arthur frowns.

"Unfair. You've shagged America twice today." Arthur snipes, giving Alfred a look that makes England flinch and look around for knives.

Alfred grins, and for a moment, England is surprised at how alike America and he look in that moment. The insanity was generally a factor that separated the two of them.

"Thrice, actually, but whatever." Alfred said smugly. Arthur scowls, and England almost laughs because of how much that reminds him of himself. Huh.

"That's great." Arthur said sweetly and Alfred smirks.

"I know." He drawls.

"So I should at least get to fuck once." Arthur continued, still smiling that sickly sweet smile as he tilts his head.

Alfred sneered. "What? I'm not good enough for you?" England coughs at that, trying to hide his chuckle. Alfred flashes a smirk at him, before he crosses his arms over his chest and leans on the doorway, his expression unreadable.

"Sloppy seconds? No, not really, why?" Arthur replies cooly, flashing a mischievous grin. England snorts and rolls his eyes as he pushes Arthur away from him.

"Not like you're virginity personified yourself, love." He pipes up, and pulls out a chair before sitting down gracefully. Alfred laughs loudly, and Arthur makes a frustrated noise.

Arthur gives him a scandaled look. "You're supposed to be on my side!" He cries out indignantly. England raises an eyebrow as he crosses his right leg over his left and Arthur pouts at him. His eyes flick to the doorway and he smiles brightly.

"Right, America?" Arthur asks, a look on his face that suggested that America better agree. England met America's eyes and rolled his own, smiling slightly. America grinned back, looking incredibly sated. England was kind of jealous.

"I have no idea what you're arguing about, but sure." America drawled. Alfred turned his head and smirked, making it extremely obvious that he was checking America out from beneath his sunglasses.

America gives him a look. "Aren't you supposed to be gone by now?"

Alfred huffs. "Arthur's busy, apparently."

"We were!"

"Not yet."

Their Alternates narrow their eyes at each other, and the tension in the room increases tenfold. America gives England a panicked look and England nods his head minutely, licking his suddenly dry lips.

Alfred reaches up and pushes his shades up to his hair, red eyes absolutely dangerous. Arthur hisses, fists clenching as he narrows his own pale blue eyes. Arthur shifts to the side, and England flinches visibly, hoping to God that Arthur doesn't lunge towards Alfred. Alfred seems to be expecting that too as he tenses, reaching behind him for the baseball bat he didn't bring.

"Hey." England snaps as he uncrosses his legs, getting ready to stand up. Arthur stiffens and Alfred scowls. However, they both visibly relaxed, looking away from each other.

"Come on. We'll settle this at home." Alfred snaps. Arthur smiles, too much teeth to be friendly as he steps closer towards Alfred. Alfred nods to America and then to England before he leans in and kisses Arthur roughly. Arthur snarls, reaching out to grip Alfred's bicep, nails digging in harshly. Alfred makes a low sound, a weird mix of anger and pleasure that they've heard too many times.

Slowly, they disappear.

"So. Three times, America?" England asks, tilting his head as he regarded America. America huffs, before he walks slowly towards the kitchen table, a weird limp to his steps. England's eyebrows raise, and his lips twitch. He grins as America gingerly sits down across him and visibly spasms, a deep flush on his cheeks as he reaches over and grabs a cupcake. England watches him for a while, smiling a little as America takes a bite and very obviously avoids his eyes.

"Think you can do a fourth?"

America chokes at that, and looks up, his eyes wide as he shakes his head. England laughs, and leans in to kiss America sweetly. It was chaste. Simple. Them.

"Kidding, you idiot."

America huffs. "You better be, you ass. I am so sore, I swear."

"Mhmm. I love you too."

* * *

I like how this turned out! I've actually been at a loss on what to do with this fic. I started it out rather differently, and it ended up becoming that fic where Alfred exposes the nations to the world. IDEK, okay.

And I'm back to calling England as England and all. Sorry Britain!

Fun fact, I haven't slept, lol. I ended up browsing through Scandinavia and the World comics from 1 till 8. I'm on the fourth page right now, lol, so that's like, more than 150 comics, haha! Of course, i've alternated between that, typing this up and watching America's Next Top Model Cycle 18. I really enjoy ANTM: British Invasion. My favorite since I first watched and until now, is Sophie. She's very cute! It's funny cause she says all these things, and does all these things, and no one blames her for them. At all. They just leave her alone! There's never any drama between her and the other girls! Even when she did that thing to that stuffed toy, and etc. etc. She's my current crush, lol.

So. Next chapter will be focused more on UK/UK.


	3. United Kingdom, implicated

Okay. UK/UK for real. I love writing conversations the most, I think. It's probably because I'm a talkative person when things are going well for me, haha. This is set somewhere around the first chapter when Alfred first appears for this year's campaign. This chapter shows you, in a way, **why the nations are so likely to give in to the 2P. **

xxx

England shivered and tightened his grip on his quilt. His body felt numb and whenever he moved his body didn't feel like his. It felt like he was watching himself.

His teeth chattered and he squeezed his eyes shut against the white flashing in his eyes. Why was this happening?

He whimpered, and his heartbeat was painful against his chest. He couldn't breathe, it felt like his lungs were being constricted and pulled apart. He tried to take in a shuddering breath, white dots flashing beneath his eyelids and he gasped.

Something was wrong.

He looked up from his blanket and shakily called out for the Flying Mint Bunny. His gaze flitted around the room, panic igniting his veins. His heart beats faster and adrenaline runs through him as the Flying Mint Bunny did not answer.

He crawls to his bedside table and reaches out shakily for his phone. He looks at it, and he's seeing two now. He blinks and shakes his head, clenching his hold slightly. He has never been so grateful for speed dial than he is now.

He presses his phone to his ear and shudders at the twinge that runs through his entire body. He hears the rings, but that's not what he wants to hear.

It rings and it rings. It rings for an hour, for a lifetime, for forever.

But America never picks up.

England lets out a soft cry and drops his phone on the table. He needs to get out. He rolls to his side and drops his feet to the floor. As the bottoms of his feet meet carpet, he squeezes his eyes shut at the flash of hot pain that races up. He forces himself to stand up, his legs wobbling.

He sways, and he reaches out at empty air to grab a hold of something. He trips over his own feet and just barely catches himself. He trudges through the clouds in his vision to the bathroom and tries to blink through it.

He just needs to splash some water on his face and he'd be okay. He'd be fine.

He shakes and stares at the doubled doors in front of him. He reaches out and struggles to figure out which one is real. His hand finally closes around the doorknob and he twists and pulls it open. He stumbles to his sink, and it feels like he's drunk but he's not. He's not, he swears.

When he reaches the sink with the mirror he groans in relief and ducks his head towards the faucet. He's shaking slightly as he turns it on. He reaches out for the cold water and cups it in his hands, blinking slightly. He brings his hands to his face and clenches his eyes shut as he splashes it against his pale features. The cold water awakens him and he sighs slightly.

He looks up into the mirror and he freezes at what he sees.

He is right behind himself.

For a moment, he thinks his vision is doubling again, but when he blinks in an effort to get rid of it, his double stays.

He whirls around, eyes wide as he grabs the sink behind him. His double smiles at him brightly and England's breath hitches as his eyes flash to the pink-tinged gaze to the bright blue bow tie and pink sweater vest and finally back to the pale blue eyes with the dangerous pink flecks.

"England." Arthur says softly, an unnaturally huge smile on his face as he regarded England. England swallowed nervously and he shakes his head slightly as he closes his eyes. He was hallucinating. He must be hallucinating. There was no reason for Arthur to be here. No reason at all.

"Are you real?" He gasped out, head fuzzy as he stared at the blurry outline of Arthur. Arthur stepped closer towards him, soothing noises purring out of him. England whimpered and tried to back away from Arthur. His head was so painful; he couldn't feel his legs.

Bloody hell, he couldn't feel anything.

He collapsed, eyes rolling up into his head. Arthur caught him and pressed his face to England's clammy neck. England gasped at the rush of hot relief spreading through his body at the contact, eyes flying open at the absolute euphoria tingling in his veins. Arthur hummed in a pleasured relief that barely registered with England's own pleasure running through him.

"I'm here, it's okay. It's okay." Arthur whispered into England's jaw. England raised his hands up and he clenched his fists into Arthur's pink sweater vest desperately. He pressed himself even closer to Arthur, breaths harsh and uneven as he mouthed uselessly at his double's collarbone.

"That's why." England gurgled incoherently into Arthur's neck. Arthur stroked his hand soothingly and peppered kisses down England's neck gently. "That's why it hurts so much." England gasped out, fingernails scraping at the patterned cotton.

Arthur bites his lip, and he hesitates for a moment, before his hands go under England's sleeping shirt. England whimpers as the pain seeps out gradually. With it, his head clears and he's suddenly and achingly aware of the fact that Arthur is here. He's not supposed to be here.

"What-Why are you here?" He demanded, before bringing his hands down to grip Arthur's wrists and keep it from going any higher or lower.

"It's almost America's elections, isn't it?" Arthur says innocently, smiling at England. England's jaw clenched and he nods reluctantly.

"Alfred and I go together. You know that." Arthur says simply, that smile still fixed on his face. And he does know that, he does know that Alfred and Arthur are as much as a pair as America and England.

England's grip tightens on Arthur's wrists and Arthur's smile turns dangerous. His teeth bares in a wide grin and England swallows down the growing panic.

Carefully he pulls Arthur's hands away from his body. Arthur's eyes flash and he twists his hands to grab England's forearms in a tight grip, thumbs digging into pressure points. England hisses in pain and tries to snatch his hands back but Arthur just presses harder, his grin growing wider. He leans in closer towards England and kisses him chastely. England makes a low noise of pleasure and Arthur smiles.

However, as Arthur bites on his bottom lip harshly, England flinches. He pulls away and shakes his head determinedly, pupils blown wide with lust.

"Stop. I don't want to do this." England grunts out. Arthur tilts his head as he regards England curiously. He laughs and then shakes his head in bemusement at the lust-darkened green eyes and the red, wet lips.

"Well, that's not what you said," He paused, frowning a little as he mused, "2 years ago." He continued cheerfully. England scowled at him. His elections. Right. But at least he came alone and didn't drag Alfred in with him.

"And besides... Don't you want to feel better? Don't you want to get rid of the pain of having another version of yourself active in this world? This world can't handle two of us, you know that." Arthur said gently, his voice soft as silk and gaze as cold as ice. England looked away, gritting his teeth against the truth.

"Unless two become one." Arthur giggled, giving an outlandish wink. He paused, and then added thoughtfully. "And to think we only have to do it once every 24 hours until the pain becomes unbearable." He chirps at England brightly. England stared at his open door and didn't dare to reply.

His heart beat against his chest and he squeezed his eyes shut. Pain brushed against his consciousness and he shuddered. He didn't want to hurt anymore. But he didn't want to give in either.

The two of them were silent, England's thoughts raging in his head and Arthur simply humming contentedly as he waited for England. Arthur's grip on his forearms was a consistent pressure and England struggled not to pull his arms closer to himself defensively.

He looked up to meet Arthur's wide blue eyes. Pink flecks seemed to dance in amusement as Arthur blinked at him, eyes dark with mischievousness.

Arthur let go of his forearms and the moment all the skin-to-skin contact was gone, England cried out and Arthur's smile hardened. Pain raced up England's spine and he tensed, green eyes wide. He grabbed Arthur's arms, and the relief he feels from that touch is overwhelming.

He doesn't want to hurt anymore. Stronger nations than he have fallen prey to their double's cold touches of reassurances. And so was he.

"Why can't you just leave?" England whispers brokenly as his body slackens and relaxes against his double's. His head drops on Arthur's chest and he shudders at the unwanted comfort. Arthur smiled down at him, eyes flashing in relief.

It's not like he wasn't in pain too. It's not like pain rocked his body at every word and fire burned his throat every time he dared to speak. It's not like white spots filled his vision no matter how hard he tried to blink it away. It's not like his hands shook with unexplainable tremors every time he moved them.

As England tilts his head up to kiss Arthur desperately, Arthur giggles.

He was just better at dealing with it.

xxx

I just came back from a surgery. It was minor, they just cut out a callous from my foot the size of my pinky nail-and my pinky is not that big, lol-but I was so scared, I swear. I was just staring at my heart monitor and the lights (lol, tbh, i was trying to figure out if my heart rate was 89 or 99 since my glasses were off). There was anesthesia and all, but I was mentally freaking out because they were praying beforehand, (you know, Catholic country and Catholic hospital.)

I do not want to be a surgeon. At all. I shall be a PT and work with dancers and be awesome. That is all.

-DD

**Also, btw, I had no idea how to name this chapter. How do you say "damay" in English? Seriously! Ugh, or, how do you say, "because of what you did, I got involved also", in a shorter way? **Implicated works, you know, but it doesn't really mean the same. :( i am frustrated with language.


End file.
